My Best Friend Every Other Tuesday
by The Unsolvable Riddle
Summary: The end of the year, the end of a lifetime. Spend the last year at Hogwarts with Potter and Malfoy. I'm back with Chapter Two in tow. Fear. PG13 for colorful use of vocabulary
1. Draco Malfoy

AN/Warnings: Whee! I got the Salazar Slytherin card in the HP game. I'm really sad, aren't I?

Draco rants, raves and repeats. Fear. I wrote this randomly because it attacked my mind and I couldn't help it. Possibly the most non-angst story I have up.

Enjoy at your own risk. Uh…what warning can I give? If you don't like me sympathizing with Draco, I suppose, and it's PG-13 for Draco's colorful use of vocabulary. That's it, really. Girl Scout's honor it's not slash (unless you've come in looking for it. I wrote it with a more of a teasing atmosphere in mind, and the fact I was never a Girl Scout), which I know makes you sad, but this is meant to be more of a Draco rant fun time, with a dash of Harry thrown in to make it more interesting. I've also always seen Harry and Draco as a characters both with a very dry sense of humor, so that ends up in here. 

[Newer Author's Note: This is an older story I found in my Fanfiction folder-thing. I had gotten to around where Draco's by himself in the Great Hall, I decided to fix it up and finish it off.]

As for the title? Don't ask. I think it makes sense. Slightly. Just a tiny bit. Think about it.

Enjoy.

My Best Friend Every Other Tuesday

OR

A Very Bad-Ass Story According to Draco Malfoy

"The winner of the house cup is…" Draco bit his nails in anticipation. Please God, say Slytherin, please, please, please…

"Gryffindor!" 

Shit. Shit because he lost, and he has just ripped off most of his fingernail. 

Draco scowled across the room, where the cheery Gryffindors all hugged each other in excitement. Damn all their happy little selves to hell. Crabbe and Goyle could only shrug at each other, while Blaise muttered something about trying next year. Pansy sighed, and looked to the other side of the Hall. Flint rolled his eyes and muttered some obscenities (he was still around, God knows why), and Snape shook his head up at the teacher's table, while McGonagall smiled triumphantly.

He saw Harry Potter look at him for a moment, his eyes showing some slight confusion. Wasn't he supposed to march over there, lift Potter up by his shirt collar, and hiss something nasty?

Yeah, right. This was the sixth year in a row Gryffindor had won. The bloody sixth time! Always no less than ten points behind, all because Harry would go save some fucking innocent. Saved the school from Voldemort in the first year. Saved the little Weasley girl in the second. Third? He had no idea, but even that was fishy. Time travel. Why? Just because he sometimes felt things out of place. He wasn't stupid, you know. Fourth year, the whole Triwizard tournament, big whoop-dee-doo. So what? Ooh, look, that's lucky, their wands cancel out, and Harry lives by the skin of his teeth, but that nobody Diggory doesn't. He dies. Oh. My. God. Please note the sarcasm.

Fifth? Oh, yeah, right, we had Potter's little teenager angst stage. I hate the world and the world hates me, I order everyone to feel sorry for me. Somebody, give this boy a trophy. Teenage angst is so rare these days.

The final day of the sixth year at Hogwarts ended on Tuesday, for one reason or another. 

Draco collapsed back onto the Slytherin bench, his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. He didn't want this anymore. No more worthless competition, no more fighting over pointless facts of the past that wouldn't change. 

"Come on, Dray. It's the end." Of another year, Blaise meant. It seemed more like the world as he knew it. Was it even worth trying to win anymore? Slytherin hadn't won since almighty Potter came.

"Yeah. I'm not going home, anyway. Both of my darling, loving parents are away, and the house elves aren't much company, they're terrified out of their wits." The only smirk that passed his face was a fake one. 

"Right then. You'll have fun, heard Potter's staying too. See you later, then." Blaise waved, and walked out of the room, robes flowing behind.

When even Goyle and Crabbe had deserted him, he smacked his head against the wood table regularly, barely lifting his head, but still coming into contact with the wood over and over and over again. He left his head on the table for an immeasurable length time.

He felt a thin, icy hand on his shoulder, the cold going through his robes. 

Snape. He didn't have to look up to see him. He was there, his head turned, dark brown eyes looking back to the teacher's table. His slightly curled black hair reached his chin, and wasn't any different from ten minutes ago. He took in air, and spoke;

"Stop whacking your head on the table, Malfoy, you're going to dent it." Draco wasn't sure if he meant the table or his head. Snape sighed when he got no response.

"Dear boy, you tried. Hell, we might be Slytherin, but we're not made of stone." Came his strained voice, tired of reprimanding and scolding. When the presence of the man was no longer there, he lifted his head, his eyes dull and almost lifeless. The eyes of someone who knows what his life is going to be like, and can't do a damn thing about it.

"But it wasn't good enough, was it, sir?" He asked the supposedly empty Grand Hall, and his voice echoed back to him. Draco already knew the answer.

Snape had just reached the large wooden doors of the Hall when he heard the lost voice. He didn't even look back, or reply. He sighed, and muttered;

"No, I suppose not."

With that, Serverus Snape left the Hall, and Draco Malfoy continued to knock his forehead against the table.

---

Somewhere around five hours later, Draco had stopped injuring his forehead, and had stared lazily at the enchanted ceiling, as it started to fade to a sunset. 

He had a throbbing headache, but couldn't be bothered to move. 

So he sat. With a killer headache. 'Ow. Someone, go get Madame Pomfrey. I'm dying here!' His mind ordered some invisible house elves. Where were they, anyway?

Draco suddenly realized how bossy he was. He grinned, and stroked an invisible goatee in thought.

He rummaged in the pocket of his black trousers, and pulled out a Famous Witches & Wizards card. He had them all, except the widely rumored card number one hundred. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was Potter.

The one in his hand was card forty-eight, Salazar Slytherin. He twirled it around in his fingers, when a small gust of wind almost whisked from his hands.

He glared up accusingly without lifting his head, half expecting it to be Blaise again. He exhaled loudly in annoyance, and opened his mouth to reply.

"Yo."

The person just looked at him like he was a serial killer running rampant around Hogwarts, purposely killing Gryffindors because of a past bad relationship…

Draco thinks he's becoming more insane every day. 

Potter stares at him for a very long time, and it's getting very annoying, and very uncomfortable. 

However, because he's as stubborn as the other, he continues to stare back, his eyes almost all the way rolled up in the top of his head. It hurts to move his neck, and he ignores the slightly painful position his eyes are in. He didn't think his eyeballs could feel pain. 

"Am I stuck all summer with a psychopathic blonde?" He mumbled, running a hand through his hair, but it got stuck. This led to a few snickers from said psychopathic blonde.

"Pothead, why the hell aren't you going home to the Muggles?"

"Because, Malfoy, Dumbledore nearly killed them last summer for whacking me round the head with a saucepan. I've still got a bruise there, too."

"Fascinating."

"I know, isn't it?"

---

A few hours had gone by, and the two boys were still sitting at the Slytherin table, having said nothing for ages. Draco had been busy sucking on his bleeding and mutilated fingernail instead of trying to socialize with Potter.

"Are we the only ones left, Malfoy?"

"Of that I am unsure, Pothead. I suppose Dumbledore's around somewhere. That man practically lives in the walls of the school. Probably Snape, and McGonagall. Binns, too. That old spook rarely leaves his room anymore."

"Mm."

"Wanna go trash the Ravenclaw dorms?"

"Aren't they locked?"

"Don't speak of such blasphemy, Pothead. The dorms are only locked during the school year."

"Sure. Why the hell not, Malfoy. Why the hell not."

"Exactly. You have become wise, Pothead."

---

The two ambled around Hogsmeade, as both stopped outside of the Quidditch supply store. 

"Wow…" Potter breathed, his breath spiraling into steam. For one reason or another, Hogsmeade had decided to have one of those 'Christmas in July' things. 

There in front of them both, was the Firebolt Nova. It boasted that it had everything the Firebolt had - and more. 

He put his hands up on the glass like a child looking in a toy store just before Christmas. Then again, it was almost his birthday, and it was July twenty fifth.

"Oh, get over it, Potter, and stop drooling. You'll have to buy it yourself." Malfoy pulled on his scarf, trying to drag him away from the now fogged display. Potter made a sound that resembled one of a dying cat, and reluctantly followed.

"But Malfoy…" He whined, which resulted in another sharp tug on the scarf. Malfoy's long fingers made it all the way around the knitted scarf, as his nails dug into the Gryffindor colors. The nail he had ripped off by mistake before was only slightly better - it sometimes throbbed with a dull pain, or a sharp, stabbing one. 

"Come on, Potter! I'll buy you a Chocolate Frog if it makes you feel better."

"Honest?"

"Honest." The blonde boy rolled his eyes, and Harry grinned like a maniac.

"Well, come on then!" This time, Potter grabbed his green and silver scarf, and dashed in the general direction of Honeydukes. 

Malfoy responded with a gagging sound, and ran (or rather, was forced to run) after the dark haired boy in front of him.

"Potter! Don't run so damn fast!" 

---

Malfoy, whose face was paler than usual from his almost untimely death by strangling, coughed again for sympathy as they left Honeydukes. 

"Oh, let it go, Malfoy." Harry mumbles, as he takes a bite out of the Chocolate Frog, the sweet taste warming him up immediately.

"What card did you get?" Malfoy leans over, as Potter sits down on the nearest bench. Malfoy follows. 

"Godric Gryffindor. I've got ten of him. You want it?" Godric starts silently throwing a fit, yelling and screaming (well, if they could of heard him). He doesn't want to get stuck with possibility the most Slytherin-ish boy on the planet. Draco looks down at the raving Founder, and smirks.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've got all of them." Harry sticks out his tongue childishly, and pockets the relieved Founder.

"Aren't you gonna eat yours?" He points to the still wrapped chocolate. The blonde shakes his head. 

"I'm gonna save it. These things don't go bad easily." Draco looks up, and something white lands on his nose.

"It's snowing." He states simply, as if the snowflakes held no wonder or delight to him. Potter next to him laughs as they start coming down more heavily. He stands up, an outstretched hand catching the white magic. 

"Don't be so cold, Malfoy. Everyone loves snow." The pink-cheeked boy behind him just shrugs, and shivers slightly in the freezing air. 

Potter's nose is bright red, and so are his ears and cheeks. He looks totally ridiculous, smiling up at the sky as if it was giving him the best present of his life. 

Suddenly, Malfoy feels rather lonely. Not depressed or anything, just a sudden and deep feeling of being alone. 

He doesn't see anything wonderful at all about snowflakes, those crystalline orbs of pure magic. But by the look on Potter's face, he feels that he should.

Potter turns back to the bench, a smile spread across his face. It fades quickly when he realizes the blonde isn't sitting there anymore. He turns to his left, and sees the boy heading back in the direction of Hogwarts. 

He shrugs, and quickly follows after him.

"Hey! Malfoy! Wait up!"

---

"Oh, well done, Potter." Malfoy smirks, and Potter pouts next to him. The Chocolate Frog jumped off the table, and hopped down the Great Hall. 

"Great. I got Dumbledore." Potter sighed, and twirled the card in his hand. Dumbledore suddenly looked rather green, and disappeared. "I've got at least twenty of him by now."

"Ah. Fuck it."

"What?" Potter looks at the boy curiously, strangely used to his harsh language. Sure, Ron swore a lot, but never as vulgar or even as often as the blonde boy in front of him. 

Harry bet Hermione swore a lot - just in her head. Sometimes, if you looked at her when she was really mad, it was like she was trying to resist from screaming "EFF YOU!"

"Tomorrow we have to go back to school.."

"We've been here the whole time, you ass."

"No, Pothead! As in everyone's coming back tomorrow."

"Oh."

"Now, I can't be seen with you, Potter. Nothing happened, alright? I'm Draco Malfoy, and you're Harry Potter. Nothing. Alright?"

It sounds rather like forbidden love, which causes Harry to burst into hysterical laughter. When is subdues to a few random hiccups, his eyes are closed, his sides hurt, and he's leaning forward, his body shaking from laughing so hard. 

"I don't want to know what goes on in your mind, Potter." Harry could only grin at him, before he couldn't take it any more and started laughing again.

"Oh, God, Malfoy! You sound like a good schoolgirl with perfect grades whose secretly going out with the worst bad boy in town." This only prompted more giggles and laughs from the emerald-eyed boy. Malfoy raised both eyebrows, and then rolled his eyes.

"Keep dreaming, Potter. You know I'm too bad-ass for you."

"Whatever you say Malfoy. Whatever you say."

---

The first day of the Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts was much the same as it had always been. Except that it was his last year in this place. No more endless days of just hanging around with Ron and Hermione, or fighting with Malfoy, or having to listen to lectures all day. 

Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, both talking to him at the same time.

Hermione was already worrying about the end-of-year exams, while Ron was talking about Fred and George.

Even though mail wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow, a large black owl swooped down and dropped an envelope onto Harry's empty plate. A note was carelessly taped on.

__

Pothead,

By yourself a fucking Firebolt Nova, you prat. I'm still too bad-ass for you, so don't you dare come over here and thank me for it. If you try to give it back or tell anyone, I will curse you until Kingdom Come.

See you in Hell,

(The Real Dark Lord) Draco Malfoy

Harry grinned, and took the envelope into his hands.

Both of his friends didn't even notice it until Harry opened it up and a large amount of money (in pure coins) spilled out, chiming and ringing as they did so.

Ron gaped, a gurgling sound being the only wise thing he had to say. Hermione ruffled her feathers, and then asked;

"Harry, what is that?"

Harry stared down at the money, and tried not to laugh..

"Dirty money."

---

Draco Malfoy, at the other side of the Hall, dug into the pockets of his trousers to see if anything was there.

There was.

It was that stupid Chocolate Frog from July. He opened it, grabbed the frog, and quickly bit off its head. He chewed rather thoughtfully on it, before noticing he hadn't checked to see what card he got.

He grabbed the wrapper, and took out the card, quickly read it, and scowled. 

The photo on the card starts laughing hysterically, taking off his glasses to wipe away tears.

Draco pouted, and turned the card around to read the back.

__

Harold "Harry" James Potter

(1980 - )

#100

Perhaps best known as Harry Potter, or The Boy Who Lived, this young man defeated the Dark Lord by deflecting the Killing Curse back at him in 1981, when he was just over a year old - almost inconceivable. He currently attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and is in his Seventh Year. He also plays for the Quidditch team as the Gryffindor Seeker, and has won the Triwizard Cup. 

__

CONGRATULATIONS! You have received a limited edition Harry Potter trading card. Only 50 have been distributed worldwide since July 25th 1995.

Card Production Number: 1/50

Ahaha. Hahaha. Shit. Well, he might as well dye his hair orange, put it in pigtails and become a Potter fangirl.

When Draco turned the card over again, the Harry on the front looked as though he had been trying to compose himself. When he saw Draco's face, he burst into silent laughter all over again.

__

Finite Incantatem


	2. Harry Potter

AN/Warnings: Yes, decided to add another chapter to MBFEOT. Mbfeot. Teehee.

Still no slash, just prodding the idea of a Harry/Draco strained friendship. I suppose it could be implied if you're looking for it, but that tends to make people think it's strictly HP/DM. I have blasphemed, I actually consider both of them to be straight in this so…yay? ::dodges attacks from slashy fan girls:: I also somehow couldn't get the style I was writing in for My Best Friend back, so this'll have to do. Very sorry about that. Also, domo arigato to everyone who reviewed, it inspired me to continue this. cheesy smile

As for the ending, it's a little weird, but it does happen. You say you're going to stay friends forever with someone from school, and you fall out of touch. Sucks, doesn't it?

Now, onto the continuation of this ficcy, ne?

One Last Encore  
_Or  
_Harry Potter's Guide to Dealing with a 'Very Bad-Ass' Malfoy

Harry has always thought that his days at Hogwarts would last forever. How could they not? This place was his entire existence. However, when he realized this was his last year, all he could really do was look back on all of the wasted time and missed opportunities. There were the great, funny times, though, and those were a thousand times better.

Pulling his cloak on, Harry stood near the exit of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Mione, I'm going to Diagon Alley with Malfoy. If I'm not back by ten, send out a search party, he probably killed me."

Hermione, who was sitting on the couch with a heavy book, looked up and nodded.

"Alright. See you later." She waved goodbye, and watched Harry slip out from behind the portrait. She smiled at where Harry used to be, and then continued reading.

Seventh Years were allowed to visit Diagon Alley on certain dates, along with the supervision of a Head of House (who was, ahem, 'randomly chosen'). The scarlet Hogwarts Express would enter the station wailing, and a handful of students would hop on.

Draco sat across from Harry, still not used to the boy's company enough to actually sit next to him. Harry's head was leaning against the window, as he dully watched the scenery flash by. His breath caused little patches of fog, that disappeared once he inhaled, but came back when he exhaled.

The blonde boy's arms stretched above him, and he yawned. However, he froze and looked to his side when Snape appeared at the train car's door, counting the number of students. Harry watched Snape with equal boredom, as if he was another cow grazing in one of the fields outside. Moo.

"Potter. Malfoy." Snape acknowledged both teenagers, and both nodded, but not together. Harry's nod was short and tired, but Draco's was a little deeper. Harry snorted when Draco realized his hands were still entwined above his head, and brought them quickly down. Snape only raised an eyebrow, and continued to the next car.

Harry carefully examined his bitten nails, while his companion kept on running his hands through his own hair, smoothing out every bump and untangling every knot.

When Harry reached to bite one nail that he had started to let grow, he received a kick in the knee from Draco. Scowling at the boy, he clenched his hand into a fist and let it fall to his side.

"Asshole."  
"I try."

---

The train shuddered to a stop, and both boys stood up, almost falling when the train heaved a final time. Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder in order to stabilize both of them, and his hand was redrawn quickly once they were both fully on their feet.

Both stroll off of the train, with Snape somehow right behind them. When he curves off to guide a few first and second years around the busy streets of the Alley, Harry burst into a well-hidden grin and his companion rolled his eyes.

"We were good, Malfoy. Snape probably thought that if he wasn't in the car, we'd be at each other's throats."

"Yes, Potter, I believe you deserve an award." He clapped short and sarcastically, earning a punch in the shoulder.

They wandered around the Alley for a good hour or so, stopping to check out some books in Flourish and Blotts, and then poking some explodable mushrooms in the Apocathary.

Stopping at the ice-cream parlor, Harry entertained the idea of getting a huge banana split. Draco refused to share it with someone who would infect him with his 'happy-go-lucky, fucking annoying, turn-me-into-a-red-headed-fan girl-Gryffindor-ness.'

Harry bought it anyway.

Draco nearly killed him when he realized that Potter was coming out with the huge dish. Standing up and seething, as he curtly told Potter to go to hell, and and added a few more damnations for good measure. He finally realized he was only humoring Potter, and the spectators who had stayed around to watch.

Sitting down with a huff, Potter beamed at him from the other side of the table. Sticking two spoons into the huge ice cream, he stole some whipped cream with his finger, thinking for a minute.

"Eight-point-eight on the Malfoy Hissy-Fit-O-Meter." He grinned as Malfoy glared at him, eating another spoonful of ice cream. "I dare say, if I really piss you off next time, we might be able to make a nine."

"I hate you."  
"I know."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Malfoy looked up. When in doubt, resort to small talk.

"How's that Ravenclaw you've been going out with?"  
"She bitches. A lot. I can hardly stand it. Probably dump her soon."  
"Fascinating. Chang?"

"Still head-over-heels in love with Cedric's ghost. She writes sometimes, but, you know, she talks to me like I'm her little brother. How about you? Heard you've been getting around." He raised his eyebrows as Malfoy smirked.

"I don't like to brag, but, actually, I'm single right now."  
"Rawr."

"Shut up." Both of the boys laugh, though, and Draco twirled the spoon between his fingers thoughtfully.

That was when Potter kicked him under the table. Pretending not to notice the boy's suppressed grins, Malfoy stared out down the Alley, spoon in mouth. Revenge was too sweet to forget, and Malfoy delivered a swift kick to Potter's right shin.

"Malfoy! God, that killed!" Harry nearly shrieked, pushing back his chair to examine his leg. Pouting, Harry pulled his chair back in and continued eating.

"Then don't play footsie with me." Harry laughed, stealing what was left of the whipped cream.

"Oh, I _only_ play footsie with you, Malfoy." Both grinned dangerous grins, dared-you-first grins. These grins meant business.

"Mm. Never knew you swung that way, Potter."

"Only for you, Malfoy. Otherwise, I'm as straight as they come. Besides, rather a Gryffindor boy than a Slytherin girl, eh?" Malfoy eyed the other with his 'we-are-not-amused' look. Something lifted his lips into a grin, as he skillfully knocked Potter's spoon out of the way, and stole the last spoonful of ice-cream. Popping the spoon out of his mouth with defiance, he threw the utensil back into the bowl.

"They're both about the same, really. Except maybe you're just a little prettier than Pansy." Flashing the raven-haired boy another grin, Malfoy lazily stood up and meandered down the Alley.

"Bastard." Harry muttered, but noticed the continuous metallic nose coming from the ice cream bowl. He found not only the spoon there, but more than enough money to pay for the food. Sighing at the blonde's antics, Harry stood up and walked away from the table, finding Malfoy at the corner of the street.

"Potter. Long time, no see."  
"Oh, Malfoy. Fancy meeting you here."

---

It was the last day of school. Where had all of the days gone?

Harry had, as discussed that summer break, spent every other Tuesday of his last year with Malfoy. Seventh Years were allowed to choose one day where they were allowed 'free study', but were allowed to wander the school, as long as they had an excuse. Whether both went along with it because:

a: Out of spite.

b: Their inherent Gryffindor/Slytherin 'duties' to get in as many shots as they could. Malfoy was ahead on the insult tally simply because of that first night at Hogwarts when he had offered a handshake. That, Harry claimed, was an insult in itself. You don't touch things if you've don't know where they've been.  
  
Or, finally;  
c: To humor the other, neither really knew..

They usually went to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley if they were allowed. If it was raining, they went to the Great Hall and played Exploding Snap, chess, or something like that. If they couldn't do anything else, they went outside and wandered around, talking about nothing and everything. Their conversations were usually short and not-too-deep, you couldn't really safely reveal anything to someone who could be against you for the rest of their life.

The last day was spent signing yearbooks, hugging people whose names he'd forgotten, and laughing at good memories and shaking his head at the bad. Voldemort was still out there, somewhere, but this wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

He'd be in touch with Ron and Hermione, who were going off to do one thing or another…but not together. Neville was, as expected, going to train to be an Auror, with Seamus and Dean tagging along.

Wandering onto the platform, Harry stared up at the Hogwarts Express.

Spotting Malfoy leaning against the railing that kept 'suicidal' Hogwarts students from jumping onto the track, Harry started to walk over to the blonde, but stopped to chat with Hagrid.

"Harry! Gods, I can't believe it's yer last day already." Hagrid slapped him on the back, causing Harry to take a few steps forward.

"Yeah. Time flies when you're having fun, eh?" Hagrid laughed in response, sniffed, and then patted Harry on the head before walked off to talk with some other students.

Malfoy had been eavesdropping, and raised his eyebrows as Potter stood in front of him.

"Time flies when you're having fun, Potter?" The boy in question laughed.

"The way you talk, it makes everything sound so goddamn suggestive." The blonde smirked, shrugging.

"It's a skill." Harry nodded, before noticing Malfoy had something in his hand.

It was a Wizarding Card.

"Whazzat?" Harry reached out to snap the card between his fingers, but Malfoy pulled it away, scowling.

"None of your goddamn business." He attempted to pocket it, but Harry plucked it from his fingers, studying it with what started out as feigned interest. Realization dawned on his face, and he laughed.

"Of all the people Malfoy…" Said boy's scowl deepened as Potter laughed silently, holding his side with one hand. "But I'm much better looking than this." He waved the photo in front of Malfoy's face, as the Harry on the card stuck out his tongue at the insult.

"Last call for seventh years!" Came Hagrid's booming voice. Both boys turned around, before looking back at each other.

"This is it, isn't it?" Harry looked down at his bags, Hedwig ruffling her feathers as she sat in her cage. "The end of another road." Harry smiled, and got a smirk in response. He handed the blonde back the card, batting his eyelashes and clasping his hands over his heart.

"Remember me always, Draco Malfoy." The blonde snorted, rolling his eyes.

"You really are a pain in the ass, you know that?"

Picking up his bags, Harry turned around and grinned. Shifting all of his luggage to one hand, he saluted Malfoy, his hand sharply falling from his forehead to his side.

"See you around, Malfoy."

Harry boarded what had become the Gryffindor side of the Express. Following suit and lifting his bag off the platform, Malfoy walked a few cars down, where the majority of the Slytherins resided. The train lurched forwards, and Hogwarts soon disappeared from view.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione jumped down from the scarlet train at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Harry silently kept a lookout for a blonde, but he never did see a head of ridiculously gelled blonde hair.

They never did see each other again after that, too many excuses and complications were involved. However, that Limited Edition Harry Potter trading card is now worth more than a small country, and Draco Malfoy still has it around.

Somewhere.


End file.
